


Whose House is this Anyway?

by orphan_account



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Ficlet, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 05:39:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2097684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire is drunk one night and instead of going to Joly's like he planned he accidentally breaks into the house of the boy of his dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whose House is this Anyway?

Grantaire stumbled down the street and slumped against a streetlamp. He looked up into the light and slurred, "Oh sun, tell me why nature's good fruits should intoxicate when rotten, and draw in such rotten people such as myself to it's fermented stench. AAAAAH I FEEL LIKE SHIIIIIIIIIIIT!"

His body gave out and he blinked a few times before he realized his butt was on the ground. Grantaire whimpered softly and cradled his head. Normally getting drunk at a bar meant fun with a hangover the next day but he must have overdone it with whatever he drank. 

Grantaire's phone vibrated and started ringing and he fumblingly got it out of his pocket to see it was an alarm going off.

'If you're drunk, go to Joly's.'

"That's me," he said out loud. "I'm drink. I shoulder go jolly." Somehow poetic nonsense came easier to him than regular sentences when he was like this. 

Using the post for support, Grantaire pulled himself up and rambled, "Okay. Joly." He looked around. "Where is Joly? I'll have to take a message. Hmmm. He's Korean. Maybe he lives north of here? I know he loves goldfish and baked Lays sour cream and onion potato chips. Goddamn I want potato chips."

Grantaire pointed up to the light and said to himself, "So if that's the sun, then east is THAT WAY!" he shouted as he dramatically pointed right. 

He walked down the street and kept going until he felt like not walking. The house at the end of the cul de sac looked rather nice and he decided that it must be Joly's. 

All the lights were off so Grantaire assumed Joly was asleep. Therefore he needed an alternate way of getting in.

He circled the house and found a window open in the living room. The bug screen came off easily and Grantaire flopped in onto the couch and passed out. 

-my friends my friends this is a page break-

"GET OUT OR I'LL CALL THE POLICE!" growled a man near Grantaire. 

Grantaire blearily opened his eyes to see the most beautiful person he'd ever seen standing over him with a phone and a large stick. His blond hair was shoulder length and it was just wavy enough to be noticeable. The mans pale skin and feminine face would be wonderful on a canvas and Grantaire wondered how his full lips would feel pressed against his or how his bright blue eyes would look softened and serene instead of full of confusion and alarm. 

"You're not Joly," said Grantaire as he stared. He looked down slowly and prayed he would pop a boner as he took in how gorgeous this guy was as he stood there in only his boxers. 

"Joly? You were looking for Joly?"

"Yeah, Joly's my friend. I had this alarm on my phone that told me when I was drunk to go to Joly's house, and I tried but I had no idea where I was. So I wound up here." He eyed the man's body appreciatively and said, "And boy am I glad I did. Can I have your number?"

"You already have my address," he snapped as he took a picture of Grantaire and texted it to Joly.

"Well then, can I have your name?"

"Enjolras." Enjolras got a reply from Joly and asked, "And you're Grantaire? Joly says you're an artist?" 

"Yeah." Enjolras lowered his stick and dropped it on the floor. "Look, I'm really sorry about this. If you're not going to call the cops on me I'll leave right now." Grantaire was feeling his usual sad feelings after being drunk and would prefer not to piss off this angel even more. 

Enjolras shook his head. "You're a mess. I'm not sending you out on foot looking like a wreck with no breakfast." He pulled Grantaire up and smiled at him. "There's coffee and muffins in the kitchen, help yourself." 

"Thank you." Grantaire adjusted his clothes and Enjolras led him to the kitchen.

"By the way, I run an activist group. If you're int-"

"Sign me up," said Grantaire instantly.

Grantaire detested activist groups on principle but he would do anything for this boy. 

Enjolras sighed. "Looks like you're getting my number and I'm getting yours."

"Goody."

"Pour yourself some coffee while I get dressed. Also, perhaps you should set an alarm on your phone for 6:30 PM on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Our meetings start at 7 and I don't tolerate tardiness."

"Will do." 

Grantaire got himself coffee and a blueberry muffin and sat down at the table with a bright smile despite his headache. He smirked as Enjolras came back and Enjolras raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"I hope you like to debate."

"I was the captain of my school's debate team and all of my ideas have been tested through and through. I am an idealist but I can back everything I say up."

"Oh really? Try me."


End file.
